Ah, Kansas...

This morning I woke to high humidity and temperatures in the upper 50's. By midday it was 65, with roughly the same level of humidity as the bottom of a swimming pool. Tonight, I retired to my room late after an evening chat with my sister, and I flipped on the weather channel as I got ready for bed. I noticed a severe weather alert - turns out we're under a tornado watch until 5:00 in the morning! Severe thunderstorms with heavy lightning and hail are almost upon us - a quick step out onto the porch revealed bright white lightning to the northwest, illuminating the low hanging clouds barreling across the sky. Winds are suddenly rattling the windows on the house, and the distant rumble of thunder promises that we'll see some weather soon.

I shall now return to my attic bedroom and try to sleep...

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

From the New York Sun, 1897:

Dear Editor—

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O’Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Merry Christmas to you and yours. :)

Since we last met...

...I finished the requirements for my degree and bought a house.
It's been a busy past few weeks. :)

Tomorrow is my pinning ceremony. I've had so many mixed emotions lately - it's been a lot to sort through. More on this later.

I leave for Kansas on Sunday, and I'm looking forward to a little brain vacation. And blogging.

One last hurrah.

So that one last research paper I mentioned? Yeah, still working on that.
Turns out it's the paper from hell.

Tonight is going to be a red-eye research paper fest - one. last. time.

Almost...there...

I am (taking a break from) working on the final research paper of my (very long) career as an undergrad. This one last paper followed by one more exam, a handful of assignments and self-evaluations, roughly forty more hours of clinicals, and I believe a total of five presentations - then I'm DONE.

The closer the end gets, the antsier I become. I believe back in high school this was fondly referred to as "senior-itis." Whatever it is, I've got a bad case. I swear, I've spent as much time logged in to facebook as I have doing actual research for this paper. Lame, I know...

A procrastinator, clear to the end.

(Okay, back to work.)

LOST, Season 5

Where is Mandi again?

It's crazy crunch time. I have a massive paper due Monday, and another the following week. I think there's about 25 days left of this semester, and it's going to be a race clear until the end. I may pop in here and there, but as has been usual for the past few months, I won't be able to post regularly. I'm guessing that about Christmastime, I'll have recovered enough to be able to blog, go out dancing, clean - all the things that I've been putting off during school.

I love you all. Come see me next month?

Closing thoughts.

This afternoon I cast my vote for Barack Obama. I think he is a good man with good ideas, and I think he would be good for our country.

I believe many of those supporting Obama are there because of the way he makes them feel. Hopeful. Rejuvinated. Empowered. I suppose that on the surface that could seem silly, but I think it's indicative of our needs as a country. The last administration ruled by spreading fear and confusion. Scare tactics enabled the Bush administration to obtain an unprecedented level of power for the executive office, throwing away our checks and balances, thus beginning the slow erosion of our constitutional rights. I think that people ache for something different. We want to be inspired. We want to be empowered. We want our government to hear us, to know us. We want someone to fix our horrific reputation with the world. We want, not fear, but hope. (And a president who can string together a sentence would be a big improvement, too.)

I think that John McCain is a good, decent man who has spent many years in service of his country. He should be respected for his work in the senate, and honored for his years of military service. I also think that his campaign was way out of his hands - it has all the hallmarks of the Bush administration (which I think are probably just hallmarks of whoever is "behind the curtain" at the RNC). Sarah Palin was a distractor. She was picked to cause a commotion, and hopefully win a few voters who had been swayed by either the youthful, energetic campaign of Obama or the female voters once inspired by Senator Clinton. Sarah Palin is not capable of leading our nation, and that to me speaks volumes about the party who would put her within inches of the oval office. Our nation is in a time of crisis, and that they would put an incompetent person on the national ticket, just to try and score a few votes - that's irresponsible and repugnant. I pity Palin, because I think she was intended from the start to be a sacrifice to the Republican party. She was used for the purposes of the party, and she's very expendable. If they win, she'll make a good figure head. If they lose, she'll make a nice scapegoat.

I love our country. I want to see us get through this election and then turn our focus to the difficult issues facing our nation. We need to unite, to find common ground and move forward. If people would just care tomorrow half as much as they care tonight, we could accomplish anything.

As twilight falls, I am cautiously optimistic.

Reader participation:

My semester has me sequestered into stressed out manic homework crazytown. So I invite you to a topic I've been thinking about a great deal:

What is your definition of health?

I hope some of you will chime in with your thoughts. I have my opinions (which, after the craziness subsides, I hope to blog about), but for now I'd love to hear yours...

Flight.

I, as those of you who know me already are much aware, am a nervous flier. And by "nervous", I mean that I cry on about a third of the flights I take, and panic at least briefly on probably 95% of them. Strange? Surprisingly not. Plenty of people on any given flight are wary at best, but in my own experience there are always others like me on board.

Some of my favorite flying adventures have been with the people I've met on flights. Several years ago I was traveling from Kansas City to Missoula, with a connection in Salt Lake. Weather in Missoula had been bad for days - inversions with heavy freezing fog, and they closed the Missoula airport just as my flight was boarding in Salt Lake. I got a hotel room for the evening and hoped that the fog would lift in time for my rebooked flight to land the following afternoon (the woman next to me on the plane had been trying unsuccessfully to fly into Missoula for three days - she said she was giving up and renting a car). The next day I was seated uncomfortably in row one of a Canadair regional jet (no leg room in that row!). The man in the seat next to me was a pilot who would be returning with the plane to SLC on the next flight. He was a friendly sort of fellow, who laughed and smiled as my white knuckled hands gripped the armrests. "Nervous flier?" he asked unnecessarily. "That would be an understatement," I replied. He spent the next half an hour explaining the details of flying, along the safety features of aircraft in general and particularly those of the little plane we were on. I appreciated the gesture, thought my problem is not a cognitive one. My brain knows that odds are strong in my favor of surviving each and every flight I take, but my viscera disagree.


On a flight from Kansas City to Minneapolis several years ago, I had a young, fun, equally terrified flier as a seatpartner. Jane, her name was. We introduced ourselves as we sat down and, given the storm outside, both promptly disclosed our fears of flight. As we ascended into the bumpy skies, she shared her flask of whisky with me, and I my mini bottle of wine with her. It turned out to be a fun trip...

Last year I was flying from Boston to Missoula, with a stop in Denver. The first leg of the flight was on a bigger plane, with rows of three. I found my seat at the back of the plane, sandwiched between two large men, and half obscured from view by their overlap. "That's me," I said to the guy on the aisle. "Oh good," he said to both me and his friend. "We were hoping it was someone little." (That's a good way to win most girls over right away.) I slid into my seat, the big guys' biceps encroaching on my space, pinning me snugly between the two of them. Most people might complain about this arrangement, but that was the safest I've ever felt on a plane. They were nice guys, and we had a pleasant chat during the flight.

It's strange, my flying problem. I have a little fear of heights, which contributes to the flying fear. "Flying isn't the same as heights," someone once told me, prior to my first trip on an airplane. "Like hell it's not," was my reply after that maiden flight. It's exactly like being 28,000 feet in the air, which seems pretty effing high to me.
Ironically, I love traveling. And airports. My issues with flying have never stopped me from taking a trip - in fact, I fly at least three times a year. And usually, after a few minutes of panic stricken fidgeting and gripping at my armrests, I calm down and enjoy the rest of the flight.

I go through spurts of obsessive reading about flying. Here are some links I found interesting.

Ask the pilot: turbulence - ask the pilot is a column written by a commercial pilot. Interesting stuff.

Turbulence forecast - gives predictions of turbulence over the continental U.S.

Flight Aware - track flights currently in the air

Nurses for Obama.

Senator Barack Obama speaks to the American Nurses Association. The ANA endorses Obama for President.

This semester I am taking community and public health nursing, nursing leadership and management, and health policy and economics. This is an exciting time in our nation's history to be covering this content - especially the health policy course. When I have more time on my hands, I plan to pen a post about the health policies (lack thereof, mostly) in our country. You should be outraged, if you're not already. I thought our situation was bad, until I learned more about it. Now I think we're on the brink of system failure, unless something is done. Soon.

More when crazy schedule permits.

No debate for me.

I couldn't bring myself to watch the final debate - it's just too stressful.

I hate this phase in the countdown to elections - the trash-talking, hateful, tearing down time. It's a time tested tactic of campaign strategists (yes, I know the difference too), but I really believe that it's detrimental to our society. Don't tell me what your opponent won't do for me - tell me what you will do. I yearn for a leader who can inspire and unite, someone who can truly lead our nation. I'm keeping my fingers crossed - in 20 days, we just might get one.

Where is Mandi?

Buried. Buried alive, kicking and screaming, beneath a heaping helping of clinicals, projects, papers, and other craziness deemed by my esteemed professors to be important to my education. This, our final semester before we are turned loose on the "real world," appears to have been designed to kill us. If you live, then you get to be a nurse.

The bulk of the work this semester is "self directed" learning, meaning that we set our schedules directly with our preceptors. This is a test - a test of organizational wits. Nursing students are organized by nature - we have to be. Clinicals at all hours of the day, labs, papers, class, clinical prepwork, it all eats up monster amounts of time. Ask any of my classmates to see their organizer, and you'll be handed a full size dayplanner, complete with neurotic, color-coded highlighting and dozens of mini post-its clinging to every page. But this semester is the ultimate time challenge. We have three separate clinicals; nursing management, community/population based, and home visits. We are assigned three separate nurses within the community, and we have to coordinate our schedules with each of them. And somehow we have to make it to class, and for most of us, work as well. Egads.

The saving grace for me this semester is that my assignments should be fun. For my management clinicals, I will be working with the nurse supervisor at the Montana State Prison in Deer Lodge. It will be interesting to look at health care within a government system. For my population project I will be setting up protocols for and coordinating hearing and vision screenings for a small school district that has been without a school nurse for the past few years. My home care client is a high risk pregnant woman who I will be working with before and after her delivery, providing resources, education, and whatever she needs as she transitions into her new role.

So where won't Mandi be much this semester? On Blogger. Blogging is my favorite way to decompress after a long or stressful day (and god love the handful of you who show up to read the thing), but unfortunately it's also time consuming. I hope that my blog won't go the way of my kitchen, my eyebrows, and all the other things that have been neglected as of late, but at the moment I just don't know. But -- thanks for coming by, and I'll be around whenever I can.
:)

In my life

Luis and I chose this song (the original Beatles version) for our first dance as husband and wife.



I just came across this video today and I got a kick out of hearing it performed by Dave, although I still prefer the original.

Don't let Luis hear it - it'll probably ruin the song for him :)
(I know, can you believe I married someone who doesn't like Dave Matthews?)

One more.

This Slate article says exactly what I've been thinking about Mrs. Palin. I'm working this evening, but I'll be listening.

The economy.

Do yourself a favor, listen to This American Life #355; The giant pool of money.

You probably aren't nearly as angry about the national financial crisis as you should be.

I haven't heard this week's show, #365; Another frightening show about the economy, but it explains in more detail what went wrong and how it could have been avoided.

Maybe if everyone gets angry, we can finally get people involved.

Woe is me: the complaining post.

It's not fair that I caught a monster cold just a couple of days before my weekend off. (I know life isn't fair - but dammit, I need a break.) I spent the weekend simultaneously trying to enjoy myself a little (we had tickets to the Griz football game), study for a test on Monday, and recuperate from this nasty bug. Trouble is, I don't think I did very well at any of the three. It's Sunday night, and I have to finish up the research component for our test tomorrow, I'm more behind on sleep than I was Friday, and I feel icky.

And my next day off isn't until October 11th. I'm worn out.


(Sorry for being a whiny butt. I'm sure it'll pass soon...)

Autumn first, or something...

The first official day of fall in Missoula was a chilly, windy, rainy one. I normally might gripe about such weather, but after the past couple weeks of unseasonably warm temperatures (it was in the 80's for several days!), I am ready for it to feel like autumn. I've been celebrating in my own little ways all day. This morning I donned a navy cableknit sweater (yay, yay and yay), and made a mug of my favorite chai to take to class. When I got home this evening I put on my Peter and the Wolf CD (holycow if you haven't heard the recording with Patrick Stewart narrating, you're missing out. Particularly if you're female. That man can narrate me right into a frenzy...), lit a pumpkin spice candle, and opened the balcony door so the smell of cool rain would blow in. After blogging - off to bake banana nut bread. I might even mull a little wine.

Happy autumn!

Sad shopper.

I love Missoula, but one drawback of living in a town this size is the shopping. Really, lack of shopping would be a better way to describe our retail situation, at least for those of us in the 25-45 year old range.
About a month ago our Express closed with little warning. I was sad to see it go – it was one of the few mall shops in Missoula where I enjoyed shopping. Last week posters went up for the tragedy which will soon moving in to our former Express – a Hollister. Seriously... We already have a plethora of these types of stores in our little mall - PacSun, Zumiez, Abercrombie, American Eagle. Apparently everyone in Missoula under the age of 45 is supposed to be dressing either like 1.) scantily clad nonchalant teenage surfers or 2.) scantily clad pouty teenage skateboarders. The selection of merchants jumps from teenage angst to Coldwater Creek, with little in between. Downtown Missoula has the market cornered on funky little shops with unique clothing and jewelry pieces, but woman cannot survive on specialty shops alone. I needs me a Limited.

A note so I don't ruffle too many feathers - there is nothing magical (or old) about 45, nor do I have anything against Coldwater Creek. I just pulled those out of the air. Actually, Coldwater Creek has fabulous dresses.

Yet another reason to love Tina Fey.

Smart, funny, sassy, beautiful, and smart. Did I already say smart?

She rocks.

I love Montana.

Bear vs. bike: Teacher riding to school runs into bruin above Miller Creek

(follow link for full story on the Missoulian website)


And a flashback: the year we moved to Missoula, we watched this on the local news...

Confused sleepy bear.

So it's been a busy evening. First, Elle solved a big murder case and snagged the cute lawyer boy. At the same time, Carrie was falling hard for Big, but he was dating lots of other women. Bad man. The overweight girl got her belly and arms taken in and bigger boobs added by the tiny Dr. Li. Carrie and Samantha talked about threesomes with Charlotte, but Miranda felt left out. Then Jenna woke up and she was thirty and flirty and thriving, and her geeky best friend was super hot. Now she has an adorable dress on, and she's doing the Thriller dance.
The only person missing is Mr. Darcy.

(I'm going to bed now.)

Heeeeeere, sleepy, sleepy...

It's 2:30 in the morning. I'd love to be asleep. I got up and poured a medicinal glass of chardonnay - it's too close to wake time to take a benadryl (my old restless night standby - it's actually the active ingredient in many over the counter sleep aids, such as Nytol, Sominex, and Tylenol PM).

This promises to be a busy semester, but the reward is graduation. Seems like a fair trade-off.

I am keeping my desk job through the end of the year, and over the summer I forgot how that gives me just two days off out of every fourteen. Kind of a bummer.

Okay, wine is gone, time to try for sleep again. G'night!

No glass ceilings being broken there...

Thus far I've managed to keep politics largely out of my blog, mostly because I understand that there are some issues that we as people will fundamentally disagree upon, and I'd rather not open that can of worms here.

That being said, I would like to address Governor Sarah Palin's comment suggesting that, "maybe that glass ceiling will be broken after all" in this years' presidential election.

American history was made this year when a woman, Senator Hillary Clinton, through hard work, dedication, and years of service to our country, made it almost all the way to the top of a presidential election - on her own platform, with her own vision and ideas for our country. This was monumental in our nation's history, whether you agree with Senator Clinton's views or not. This was monumental for women.

Recently, a woman was chosen for a vice presidential bid, in large part because she is a woman - that's exactly the opposite. That is not progress, that is more of the same - relegating a woman to a position or duty because she is a she. If the governor of Alaska had exactly the same limited resume as Palin, but was male, he would never have been considered as a vice-presidential candidate. Not selecting someone for a job based on race, color, creed, or sex is discrimination - but so is choosing someone for those same reasons. She's a pawn in the game, nothing more. I read an article the day Palin was announced as McCain's running mate, and there was a quote from a McCain aide that read, "Either we get Hillary's votes and we win, or we don't and we don't." They weren't even embarrassed to be using such a blatant tactic.

I'm disappointed that anyone in this country would assume that because a woman voter supported Hillary, she'll vote for anyone with breasts in Clinton's absence. That's a political strategy based on sexism - believing that women will think or act a certain way because they are female. I'm offended on behalf of all women. If you agree with the McCain/Palin platform; if you believe that they can provide the necessary leadership to bring our country out of the nosedive it's currently in; and if you are confident that Palin has the knowledge and skill and decency we would expect in a president (because, as you recall, the vice president has the solemn job of acting in the president's stead should it become necessary), then by all means cast your vote for their ticket.
But please don't vote for them simply because she's a woman.

Last first day.

Today was my last first day of school. Every autumn since 1985 I have carefully put on my favorite new outfit, gathered up my binders and pencils, and headed to a classroom for the first day of a new school year. It occurred to me the other day that perhaps this is why fall is my favorite season. Fall to me feels like a fresh start - with the crisp wind and leaves come new opportunities to learn, to grow.

It's funny to me that after eight years of college (all as undergraduate, mind you), I will still be, in some ways, a service industry worker. Nursing, though an intellectually demanding profession, is still viewed as a caregiving role. Historically, nurses were primarily caregivers, but when nurses moved from the home to hospitals the need for knowledge grew, and the programs teaching nurses grew to accommodate that. Today nurses are well equipped with knowledge about the human body, illnesses, pharmacology, and medical technology, as well as how to foster growth, adaptation and healing in patients and families. Nurses utilize that knowledge to provide safe, competent care in today's highly complex health care systems. Studies have beat into the ground that good nursing care equals good patient outcomes, and poor or understaffed/undereducated nursing care equals poorer patient outcomes and higher patient mortality rates; yet somehow nurses still aren't truly accepted as an educated, important member of the healthcare team. (More on this issue/rant as time allows...) There's a push by professional nursing organizations to work on changing the perception of nursing, which I'll contribute to any way I can.
Whatever the national views on nursing, I am excited to begin my career in this field. The opportunity to care for people during such times of need in their lives is an honor. My goals as a nurse will be to ease suffering, provide knowledge, encourage growth, and foster independence. I am excited to help people.

I haven't ruled out graduate school in the future - I don't see myself as a hospital staff nurse for my entire career. There are so many career options for nurses, and I want to continue to learn and to grow. I don't know where my career will take me, but I'm very interested in the possibility of teaching nursing. The nursing shortage extends up through the nursing educators - there just aren't enough of them to go around. And somehow, this idea seems to bring my life full circle, like perhaps it's where I'm supposed to go. That will be a distant possibility, as the only way to teach nursing is to be a nurse first. Experience is the best teaching tool for a nursing professor. Today was the first day of my last semester as a nursing student, and from here the possibilities are endless.

Tea.

Early this summer, my friend Theresa gave me a tea kettle as a birthday gift. Because of its' kitchen-ey nature, it found a home (still in its' box) in the pile of wedding gifts slowly taking over a corner of our dining area. Recently I finally started unpacking and organizing all of the wonderful gifts we received, and last week I unpacked the kettle. I have always been an iced tea drinker, but I never ventured into hot teas. Lots of my friends around here drink hot tea, and after a few warm mugs full at friends' houses, I decided that hot tea was something I could get into.

After opening my shiny new red kettle, I went to the grocery store and bought three different kinds of tea; a white tea with lemongrass, green and white tea blend with vanilla, and a black spiced tea. I brought the tea home and began assembling a basket full of a variety of wrapped tea bags (I haven't ventured into loose leaf tea just yet), including several I already had at home. I've been sampling the different varieties this week, and enjoying the warm, aromatic coziness a cup of tea brings.

Luis enjoys hot teas too - well, some of them. This morning, as he was drinking his mug of green tea, I brought him my cup to smell. I was trying this India spiced chai I had in the cupboard (a gift from a friend some time ago...) and it had the most wonderful spicy aroma. I held the mug out to him and he leaned forward and inhaled, then pulled back quickly with a crinkled nose and exclaimed, "it smells like a god damned ham!"
I guess maybe he'll stick to the plain green.

It's been a week, and already I have no idea how I ever survived without a tea kettle. To make tea in the past, Luis and I used to boil water in our old stock pot and then try to pour from that into mugs or a pitcher. It was a mess. The kettle makes making a cup of tea so easy! I'm sold.

This American Life.

If you have never listened to it before, I highly recommend you check out This American Life, a weekly radio show distributed by Public Radio International. The show can be heard on public radio stations (it airs Tuesday evenings at 7:30 in Missoula), and is also available as a free podcast both on their website and through iTunes.

Each week the show features a theme and tells stories that surround the central idea. The stories are bits from everyday lives, told in a completely captivating way. Host Ira Glass introduces the different stories, tells interesting anecdotes and weaves the short excerpts into a cohesive show. This description doesn't do it justice, of course - it's so much better than I can possibly describe in a few sentences. If you want a better idea of what the show is like, here is a link to their about the radio show page.
If you're interested but don't know where to start, they have a list of their favorite shows posted on the website, and these archived shows are available for free in streaming audio, or available for download for a small fee.

Listen to it - seriously. It'll be one of the best spent hours of your week.

Ira Glass.

Ira Glass is the host of This American Life, and I'm a big fan of both the show... and Ira himself. I am not alone in my crush on Ira - plenty of women (especially liberal, hipster, college girls) dig his geeky, intelligent persona and his soft, slightly froggy voice.

_________________________________

My mom has a blog, and she recently wrote a post about Ira Glass' nonviolent takeover of her life. Too funny! In honor of her newfound interest in this little radio show and its' host, I drew up a pair of bumper stickers for us:

Snibble, No. 4

I had a breakthrough discovery yesterday: I’m a grown up. An adult. Old(ish)...

Around two o'clock yesterday I left work and headed over to Subway to grab a quick lunch. As I was standing in line, I turned to my right just in time to see a teenage couple avidly making out. The guy wore this focused, intent expression; a “Yeah, I’m doing this” sort of look. The look, combined with the licking-the-entire-inside-surface-of-his-girlfriends’-mouth kissing technique employed by teens (and frat boys) everywhere, was more than my almost-thirty self could handle. I shuddered and looked away quickly, and my mind automatically bounced to the phrase “damned kids.”

Usually, when I see public displays of teenageness, I smile and fondly recall my former curious teenage self. I think about kids learning and exploring, constantly testing boundaries, and what a normal thing this is. I see their defiance, their sullen expressions, their need to both fit in and to stand out, and I always think of this awkward stage as an important part of growing up. (I can’t help thinking this kind of crap – stupid psych classes…) I don’t know what it was about this situation – the overcrowded restaurant setting, the especially unkempt appearance of this particular set of teens, or perhaps it was the sweaty, oxygen-deprived, beet-red face of the boy –
but it grossed me out.

Damned kids.

Dave Matthews - So Damn Lucky

So Damn Lucky is one of my favorite Dave Matthews songs. When Dave introduces this song in his performance at Radio City, he describes it as being about the frozen moment after you've tripped and realize that you're going to smack your face into the wall, but can't do anything to stop it. But, he says it's also remembering to count your blessings.

(This version is from Farm Aid, but the version from Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds at Radio City is my favorite recording of it...)

Sad news.

LeRoi Moore, saxophonist for the Dave Matthews Band, died today.

Mr. and Mrs.

After nearly seven wonderful years together, Luis and I were married last Saturday. We were delighted to have friends and family from far and wide visit Missoula to join in our celebration - it was exciting (and a bit surreal) to have so many of the people we love here at the same time.

We would like to thank everyone for their love, warmth and generosity, and for making our day so special.

Kindergarchy.

The Kinderarchy: Every child a dauphin, by Joseph Epstein.

I agree. More on this topic later, as time allows.

Can a family eat on $100 a week?

This article from MSN money has a woman trying to feed her family of four on $100 a week. It's an interesting read...

Missoula half marathon results

My finishing time was 2:17:48. I cut three minutes off my time of 2:20:50 from last year. Would have been more, but I wasted close to five minutes in line for the port-o-potty - I've never had to stop during a race for a bathroom break, but this time I wasn't convinced that I could wait until the end to tinkle... (How's that for too much information?)

I'm proud of how much stronger I was at the end of the race this year. Last year I was inching along during the last mile, and I was completely exhausted. This year I felt strong clear to the end of the race, and I was even able to sprint it in at the finish line. Recovery was much better this year too - last year my legs were excruciatingly stiff and painful the day of the race, and I was wobbly and sore for a good week after. This year I my knees were a little sore the day of, and my leg muscles were stiff for a day or so, but by Wednesday I felt fine.

Hooray!

Montag looked at the river. We'll go on the river. He looked at the old railroad tracks. Or we'll go that way. Or we'll walk on the highways now, and we'll have time to put things into ourselves. And someday, after it sets in us a long time, it'll come out our hands and our mouths. And a lot of it will be wrong, but just enough of it will be right. We'll just start walking today and see the world and the way the world walks around and talks, the way it really looks. I want to see everything now. And while none of it will be me when it goes in, after a while it'll all gather together inside and it'll be me. Look at the world out there, my God, my God, look at it out there, outside me, out there beyond my face and the only way to really touch it is to put it where it's finally me, where it's in the blood, where it pumps around a thousand times ten thousand a day. I get hold of it so it'll never run off. I'll hold onto the world tight someday. I've got one finger on it now; that's a beginning.

-Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Books, books, books...

For two months I've been meaning to get to the library to check out some books. I've been jonesing for something new to read lately, and I'm a fast enough reader that I hate to buy books - it's gets expensive quick. However, last week at work I was desperate for a story, so I went to Borders on my break. I bought three books; Fahrenheit 451, Wuthering Heights, and When You Are Engulfed in Flames. (The first two are in an effort to keep up with my goal of reading the "100 books you should have already read," and the last is the new David Sedaris book.)

I was reading while in the bath the other day, and I dropped my book in the water. I yelped in surprise, and Luis poked his head into the bathroom to see what the stir was. After I told him I dropped my book in the tub, he asked what I was reading. I replied "Fahrenheit 451," and he burst out laughing. It is kind of funny that I drenched a book about burning books.

I'm finished with Fahrenheit 451 now (great book), and halfway through the Sedaris. I *heart* reading.

Second Missoula half marathon.

Tomorrow morning, 6:00 am - my second half marathon (13.1 miles).

Forecast for race start is 49° and sunny. Should be a great day.


race map
missoula marathon website

Wish me luck!

Mount Sentinel burns.

The most recognizable landmark in Missoula caught fire last evening around 7pm. The grasses and brush covering the face of Mount Sentinel were perfect tinder, and the fire spread and sprawled across the mountainside as the evening wore on.

The flames and smoke made for a spectacular show - it was mesmerizing to watch. All over town residents could be seen sitting on cars or in lawn chairs, cameras and cell phones trained on the slowly advancing blaze.

By this afternoon it looked as though they had the fire mostly contained, a pair of helicopters dousing the last of the hot spots with water dipped from the nearby Clark Fork river. The fire spread over nearly 400 acres of grassland on the western slope of the mountain.

The mountain will retain its' charred face for the next couple of years; perhaps it will serve to remind us how close we live to the land, and how important it is to tread lightly as we go.

Link to the article in today's Missoulian

Snibble, No. 3

I was at a department store the other day and found a super cute little khaki skirt on sale. I took it to the fitting room and eagerly stepped into it, only to discover that there were tiny pants sneakily hidden on the inside. (I'll delve into the realm of "too much information" here and say that it felt a little bit like wearing a skirt with a giant diaper... bulky and unpleasant.)
It's a depressing notion that I'm old enough to shop in the skort department. My mind has always linked skorts with soccer moms and - well, people older than me. I defiantly hung the skort on the "no, thanks" rack and went in search of a strappy tank top or some ridiculously cute shoes - decidedly more youthful selections than the scary skirtpants.

Happy Fourth of July!

Sparklers. Photo taken July 4, 2006.

My workday is finally drawing to a close... a Fat Tire and a hamburger await me at a barbecue with friends. Have a safe and happy 4th!

Snibble, No. 2

A couple of weeks ago I met my friend Andy for dinner. Andy is a preschool teacher - a rare twenty-something male who is passionate about education, human development, and kids in general. He has great stories about the random things little kids say - he made the mistake of telling me that one of the kids in his class can't pronounce either "teacher" or "Andy," and so she calls him "tee-shirt Annie." He just went and earned himself a brand new nickname with that little disclosure...

After dinner, as we were standing downtown chatting, I did a little shuffle from one foot to the other - I'd come straight from work, still wearing four inch pumps, and my feet were starting to ache. Andy, however, interpreted my little dance in true preschool-teacher form and asked, "Do you have to go to the bathroom?" I nearly died from laughter.

My Ironman!

Tomorrow Luis will compete at Ironman Coeur d'Alene, his second Ironman triathlon.

He's pretty amazing.

Freedom! Shopping! Hooray!

My office has been short handed the past few weeks, so I offered to cover a few extra shifts to help out. Due to an oversight on my part, I wound up working eleven days straight. Not much fun, and by yesterday I started feeling a little worn out. Today, however, was day eleven, and I'm thrilled to have a few days off.

After nearly two weeks straight of high heels, my feet are killing me. Not too long ago I finally forced myself to throw away my Eastland clogs (which were grody and worn nearly through), and that decision left me with very few comfortable shoe options for work. Tonight I stopped by a department store to return a dress, and they had a sale on a pair of Borns that looked just like my beloved clogs - hooray for comfy shoes!

Speaking of shopping... some bitch has gone and bought up every single pair of size six khaki pants in the ENTIRE TOWN. Seriously - I've been to every store I can think of, and without fail they will have every size except the one I need. It's making me crazy! I have skirts and nice dress slacks, but sometimes I just want to toss on a pair of khakis and a polo shirt and call it good. This is a sucky thing about living in a smaller town - fewer shopping options. I'm going back to Spokane this weekend - wish me luck on the pant hunt.

Snibble, No. 1

(Author's note: snibble was my grandfather's word for a 'little bit', usually in reference to a snack or other food item. In his memory, I have decided to call short, single story posts "snibbles." Love you, gramps...)

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Last night before bed Luis was reading his Runner's World magazine, giving me some tidbits from the Human Race section. He told me about an ultra marathoner (someone other than Dean Karnazes) who runs crazy distances - and fast. This guy ran a 100k race (62 miles), and then the following week he ran the Boston marathon in two and a half hours. (I should add that this is only slightly longer than it takes me to run half that distance. Holy crap.) Then he read to me about a blind guy who ran seven marathons in seven days, each on a different continent. The blind guy's slowest marathon time was about five and a half hours - still a little faster than my anticipated marathon finish.

The crux of this story? I run slower than a blind guy with jet lag.

Snow.

My June 1st post may have jinxed us...

Seriously.
It snowed really hard for a while yesterday, and it was kind of funny. Today it's snowing really hard, and it makes me want to cry a little. I came to work in a sweater and slacks, and still froze my arse off as I tromped into the building through the snowy, 33° morning. As I drove to work I passed cars with several inches of snow piled against their windshields, fresh from the wintry drive into town. Some of the nearby towns actually have three or four inches of wet, heavy snow on the ground. The morning dj on the radio got a kick out of playing "Let it Snow."
Summer... please?

Happy June 1st!

Many parts of the country are enjoying summer weather by now. Not so here - we're hanging out in the sixties with lots of rain in the forecast. But at least it quit snowing. :)

Measuring - in mandi units.

measuring - in mandi units
Originally uploaded by mandapanda191

(Or International Mandi Units, as Luis calls it.)

I needed to see how wide this space was, but I didn't have a tape meausure. HOWever - I know that I'm 64," so that works in a pinch.

They call me MacGyver.

(Actually, no - no one calls me MacGyver. I wish they would though. I'm resourceful, good at fixing things, and when I wake up in the morning my hair sometimes looks a little bit like his...)

Welcome sunshine!

It is fantastically beautiful outdoors, and either no one is sick or no one is willing to come indoors out of the sunshine to see a doctor - things are slow at the office tonight. Fine by me, I can happily sit and stare off into space for another three hours (seeing as how I don’t have any homework to do… I love summer). In a little bit maybe I’ll put The Little Mermaid in on the waiting room television - you know, in case a kid comes in. *wink, wink*

This morning Luis and I downtown went for bagels, and as we left I decided that today was a good day to play in the dirt. I went to The Pink Grizzly, a local nursery, and picked out flowers for my container garden. I spent the afternoon puttering around on the porch, smudged with dirt, singing along to Dave Matthews, and happy as a clam.

Wanna know a secret?

When I was sick I bought myself a loaf of mushy, nutrient-free white bread, figuring it would be easier on an ailing tummy than would my usual high-fiber, no high-fructose-corn-syrup whole grain wheat. After I felt better I kept right on eating the white, under the guise that I didn't want to be wasteful. But I have to be honest - I effing love white bread. I eat almost strictly whole wheat, because it has nutritional value and fiber and all sorts of good things, but I secretly pine for the white every time I walk down the bakery aisle.

Three months.

Wedding. Three months from today. Eeek!

Graduation.

This afternoon I'm headed to Bozeman, Montana for the MSU College of Nursing graduation and recognition ceremony. The whole thing is sort of anticlimactic, seeing as how I still have another semester of classes to complete - but it seemed better to walk now rather than the May following my graduation. (I suppose I don't have to walk at all, but after nearly a decade in college it seems like a nice way mark the end of this chapter in my life.) My graduating class will have a pinning ceremony in December when we finish, and that will be a much more significant event to me than the official ceremony. Our class has become a tight knit group over the past couple of years. After our last final the other day we went outside to break a pinãta somebody brought (long story), and since everyone was out there I was able to get a group photo:

Yesterday morning I woke up at 7:00 (sad, considering that we were out celebrating the end of finals until 3:00 that morning). I wandered around the apartment, feeling a little lost. I've been so busy for so long, I just wasn't sure to do with myself. I didn't have anywhere to be, no homework to do - it was a strange sensation. I finally made a list of odds and ends I needed to do - phone calls and things - that way I felt like I had some something to accomplish. Guess I need to practice relaxing!

Cachexia is so hot these days...

...I must be close to burning up.

I'm finally well enough to sit up for more than five minutes together, which is a welcome relief. I've been miserable sick the past few days - I'll spare details, but it suffices to say that I've lost four or five pounds. (Sadly, I know enough now to realize that it's water loss, probably most of my glycogen stores, and perhaps a little lean muscle mass if I'm really unlucky. It was not likely to be any fat tissue.) It's amazing, though, how flat my abs look when I haven't eaten in several days...

With luck, I will be well enough to go back to work tomorrow, and then cram for finals tomorrow night. One final Monday, one Tuesday, and a presentation Tuesday afternoon. Then a bit of relaxation!

Riverbank Run 2008

Photo from www.missoulian.com

I finished the Trifecta. It hurt. :) I don't know my exact finish times, but I know that I ran the one mile race (which is the last of the races) in nine and some change. And that was after two other races totaling 9.3 miles. Nine minute miles may be slow to some people, but it makes me feel like a rock star.

More soon, gotta write a paper now...

It's a two shirt weekend.

I have the Relay for Life Friday night, then the Riverbank Run on Saturday. I'm not sure where I'm going to stash all of my tees...

Last year I ran the 10k at the Riverbank Run. It was my first road race - the one that got me hooked. This year I am doing the same event as Luis, the Trifecta. At the Riverbank they have three races - a 10k, a 5k, and a one mile fun run. The Trifecta is when you run them all.
Awesome.

(For those not familiar with kilometers - a 10k is 6.2 miles; 5k is 3.1.)

On Sunday MSNA is holding a Kiss the Pig party. We have a voting box set up in our student lounge, and our professors graciously agreed to let us vote on which of them should kiss a pig. MSNA did this fundraiser a couple of years ago, and it went over well. I decided we should do it again this spring, mostly because it sounded like fun. :)
This will be the last event I coordinate as president of MSNA. I'm a little sad to see the end, but I'll be glad to be free of one of my obligations. I anticipate more free time after this week...

Okay, it's late and 5:00 comes pretty danged early... off to bed!

Tomorrow...

...is my last day of clinicals for the semester. Hallelujah!


I'm in the emergency department this week. It kind of rocks. Not particularly what I want to do once I graduate, but it's a great learning experience.

Burrrrrrr....

Wish I could go...

Mile High Festival.

Refreshed.

After two good nights' sleep, I'm finally starting to feel less frantic. It's been a crazy week month semester, but I'm finally feeling caught up. Mostly. Except for these two papers I still have to write, and the group project we're presenting this week, and...
(well, almost caught up.)

Only three more weeks of classes, and then finals. And then graduation. I'm not actually done with school, but the College of Nursing only graduates people in the spring - we have to choose whether we'd like to walk a semester before we're finished, or five months after we're finished. It seems silly to do either. To do it before seems sort of anticlimactic, but wait five months after and I doubt I'll care at all. However, I've been in college forever, and I think the whole cap and gown thing will bring it to a nice close for me. So long as I remember to come back in the fall...

I'd love to stay and chat, but it's 60° and sunny outside. My running shoes are calling to me...

Sex and the City.

YAY!

Children See. Children Do.

Here, then gone.

Erica and David left this morning - I can't believe thirteen weeks have come and gone. After their first week in town, it felt to Luis and me as though they'd always been here. I've known them for so long now... I have lots of great friends in Montana, but there's something particularly special about old good friends.

They ended up living in our apartment complex - convenient while they were here, but a little sad now. I imagine it'll take me a week or two to stop looking for her car as I walk out to get my mail.

Sad to see them go, but it was wonderful while it lasted. :)

May I just say -

WTF?

There's almost two inches of snow blanketing my car this morning.
Somebody should let mother nature know that it's MARCH 27th.
Knock it off, already.

(I know that it'll melt off in an hour or so, but still...)

Silent conversations.

Today my clinical assignment was to spend some time at a skilled nursing facility that specializes in dementia care. It was strange, because my role was not "nurse" nor "student nurse." I was sent there to visit. Interesting, considering most of the residents have long lost their memories...

What I found, however, was that memory wasn't necessary for a conversation. Nor was language ability, for that matter. It didn't matter what we discussed, or that we talked about anything at all. I had several "discussions" with a woman who speaks mostly in word salads, but we still had a lovely chat. I also talked with a little old lady who speaks quite well, but uses no proper nouns or good descriptors, so I had no idea what she was getting at. We had fun nonetheless.

I think - no, I know - that the important messages in these conversations were still conveyed. Someone sat and listened to what they had to say. Someone sought the pleasure of their company. Someone cared. It's so easy, and yet so few people in our world bother to take the time out of their busy day to spend even five minutes with an older adult. It's not something that I've done much of (hell, I was there because I had to be), but I'm going to. It's amazing, and humbling, and beautiful to sit and be with someone who needs you. I sat and held hands with little old ladies - I looked at my strong fingers interlaced with their crinkled, papery soft ones, and I felt connected to everyone and everything around me. I walked with tiny steps in their world of slow, deliberate movements, and I was grateful for my strength. As they openly admired my youth, I secretly admired their age - the experiences, the insight, the wrinkles hard earned through years of surviving. It makes me grateful to be alive.

(I know I've rambled on about this sort of thing before, but I can't help it...)

Hi!

Busy.

Spring break was week before last. Picked up my wedding gown, booked a florist and a caterer for the wedding. Spent a few days in Seattle.

Working lots. Classes are crazy busy. Erica's in town for just a couple more weeks, so we're goofing off a bunch.

It's finally warming up, so outdoor running is good again.

More when time allows.

In lieu of an engagement portrait:

Artwork by Meg Smitherman.

Trash the dress.

I love the photos that come from trash the dress shoots - I may even do one myself someday. The combination of pristine and gritty or earthy backgrounds makes for great photos.
Check out this beautiful video from stillmotionblog.com of a trash the dress photo session.

We've come a long way, baby.

In honor of National Women's History month..

From the July 1943 edition of Transportation Magazine:

Eleven Tips on Getting More Efficiency Out of Women Employees

There's no longer any question whether transit companies should hire women for jobs formerly held by men. The draft and manpower shortage has settled that point. The important things now are to select the most efficient women available and how to use them to the best advantage. Here are eleven helpful tips on the subject from western properties:

1. If you can get them, pick young married women. They have these advantages, according to the reports of western companies: they usually have more of a sense of responsibility than do their unmarried sisters; they're less likely to be flirtatious; as a rule, they need the work or they wouldn't be doing it – maybe a sick husband or one who's in the army; they still have the pep and interest to work hard and to deal with the public efficiently.
2. When you have to use older women, try to get ones who have worked outside the home at some time in their lives. Most transportation companies have found that older women who have never contacted the public, have a hard time adapting themselves, are inclined to be cantankerous and fussy. It's always well to impress upon older women the importance of friendliness and courtesy.
3. While there are exceptions, of course, to this rule, general experience indicates that "husky" girls – those who are just a little on the heavy side – are likely to be more even-tempered and efficient than their underweight sisters.
4. Retain a physician to give each woman you hire a special physical examination - one covering female conditions. This step not only protects the property against the possibilities of lawsuit but also reveals whether the employee-to-be has any female weaknesses which would make her mentally or physically unfit for the job. Transit companies that follow this practice report a surprising number of women turned down for nervous disorders.
5. In breaking in women who haven't previously done outside work, stress at the outset the importance of time – the fact that a minute or two lost here and there makes serious inroads on schedules. Until this point is gotten across, service is likely to be slowed up.
6. Give the female employee in garage or office a definite day-long schedule of duties so that she'll keep busy without bothering the management for instructions every few minutes. Numerous properties say that women make excellent workers when they have their jobs cut out for them but that they lack initiative in finding work themselves.
7. Whenever possible, let the inside employee change from one job to another at some time during the day. Women are inclined to be nervous and they're happier with change.
8. Give every girl an adequate number of rest periods during the day. Companies that are already using large numbers of women stress the fact that you have to make some allowances for feminine psychology. A girl has more confidence and consequently is more efficient if she can keep her hair tidied, apply fresh lipstick and wash her hands several times a day.
9. Be tactful in issuing instructions or in making criticisms. Women are often sensitive; they can't shrug off harsh words the way that men do. Never ridicule a woman – it breaks her spirit and cuts her efficiency.
10. Be reasonably considerate about using strong language around women. Even though a girl's husband or father may swear vociferously, she'll grow to dislike a place of business where she hears too much of this.
11. Get enough size variety in operator uniforms that each girl can have a proper fit. This point can't be stressed too strongly as a means of keeping women happy, according to western properties.

A much needed break.

This work-free weekend has been lovely. I only had one day off between February 11th and March 1st, and by the end of the stretch I was worn down to the nub. Aside from the cold I have picked up in the last few days, I feel rejuvenated. I needed a break.

I went cross country skiing yesterday with a couple of friends. It's a lot of fun - definitely something I could get into. I have no interest in downhill, but cross country is like hiking in the snow, only with giant slats strapped to one's feet. Beautiful scenery, good exercise.

And only one more week until spring break! Hooray! :)

Lipstick and lace.

I remember seeing commercials on television a couple years ago for the Lifetime movie titled Why I wore lipstick to my mastectomy (based on the book by the same title). I remember thinking that it was a clever title, and that I'd like to see the movie sometime.

This morning as I was getting ready for the day, I thought about the breast ultrasound I had scheduled for right after lunch. Instinctively, I reached for the cutest bra in my undies drawer.

I didn't think I was all that nervous, but when the radiologist came in and said that the lump looked benign to him, I sure felt a wave of relief.

I thought about that movie again this evening. I still want to see it (or better yet, read the book), but I definitely feel like I "get" the title. To me it's about being brave, and identifying with who I am as a woman. Finding a lump threatens to take that identity away from you, and it's important to reclaim it any way you can.

_________________________________________________

(Yes, this is a very personal topic - but I wanted to share it anyway. And I hope that the women reading will take this as a reminder to perform self breast exams!)

Assorted babble.

Earlier this evening Erica and I were at her apartment doing a kickboxing workout video together, and we heard this pflump outside... She glanced out through the blinds and said, "What is on my balcony?"
It was a peacock. A beautiful, brilliant, full grown male peacock, perched on her railing.

WTF?

I came home from working out about an hour later, and through the open blinds I saw a giant blue peacock sitting on my balcony. (Presumably, the same peacock that we saw earlier.)

Seriously, WTF? It's mid-February, and I live in Montana.

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I had to work all weekend, and I also had a couple of big assignments due by Saturday at noon. After I got off work on Friday I came home and finished the longer one, and finally retired to bed around 2:00am. I went to work on Saturday morning with the intent of finishing up the second assignment there. Usually Saturday mornings are fairly quiet for the first hour or so - but nooooo, not this weekend. It was complete insanity until about twenty minutes past noon, or twenty minutes after my assignment was due. I scrambled to finish it up, and I turned it in about half an hour late. Naturally, the following two hours at the office were completely quiet. (grumble grumble...)

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Tomorrow is my first day in med surg clinicals. I'm actually a little bit freaked out. Ventilator, nasogastric tube, foley catheter, central venous line, infection, complicated diagnoses with complications on top of that - my patient has it all. I'm sure the day will go fine - I met the nurses on the specialty unit where I'll be, and they were helpful and friendly. But still, it's a lot for my first day.
And next week we have to take two patients.

*whimpers*

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It's been beautiful outside the past few days; mid-forties and sunny. Spring isn't here yet, but it's coming. A week ago yesterday was the first time I noticed it - I went outside in the evening, and although it was quite cold, it smelled like spring. I'm ready for it.

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Okay, enough therapy. Time for homework.

Some thoughts after psych nursing...

After a few weeks in rotation on the inpatient psychiatric unit, here are a few thoughts:

• The people on these hospital units are just like you and me. If you met one of them on the street, you'd never know that they were a psychiatric patient.
• There is a very fine line between mental health and mental illness. Most of us will cross it at some point in our lives. Most of us probably already have.
• Mental health is a continuum, just like physical health. There is not simply "sick" and "healthy," there is a whole spectrum of shades of wellness.
• People who have a mental illness can't just "snap out of it" or "control their mind" as people so often arrogantly suggest. You wouldn't tell a person with diabetes or congestive heart failure to just "get over it," would you? Nor should you with a person who has depression or bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. They all have underlying physiological causes which need treatment.
• Your physical body is intimately connected with your mind. Poor physical health can contribute to poor mental health, and vice versa. Take care of yourself. Sleep. Eat well. Exercise. Avoid excess.
• Stress is a huge precipitator for mental health problems, just as much as it is for physical health problems. Manage your stress well.
• People who are at higher risk for mental illness are those who have poor coping resources and poor coping skills. Resources include things like family and social support, financial stability, knowledge, and spiritual beliefs. Coping mechanisms are the behaviors that are exhibited by someone in response to a stressor. They can be constructive or destructive. Generally, constructive coping mechanisms are defined as actions that help you resolve the stressor or problem. Destructive coping mechanisms help you to cope with the anxiety and stress, but do not help you to find resolution to the problem itself - they only serve to help you evade the problem.
  Think about your responses to stress - prayer, a cigarette, eating food, to-do lists, complaining, retreating, a long run, aggressive behavior, a cocktail. In my mind, an action alone can't be defined as constructive or destructive, but rather it's related to the situation. For example, a nice run is therapeutic and a great stress reliever for me. It helps me to unload the physical tension that builds when I've got a lot going on in my life. This is a constructive coping behavior. However, when I go for a run instead of writing the paper I have due, it's functioning as a destructive behavior. It's worth giving some thought to how you cope, and evaluating how those behaviors are serving you...
• Life is a beautiful, delicate balance. Be good to yourself, be good to others.

A quickie...

I'm up to my eyeballs in schoolwork at the moment. It's funny, because I'll be totally stressed, but then I'll finish up an assignment, and I'll feel the giant band of pressure around my ribcage relax for an hour or so, then I'll realize how much I have left to do, then then the tension builds all over again.

This weekend was the Montana Student Nurses' Association state convention in Helena. It went really well, and we had a great time. Photos will be on flickr when I get a chance.
The only downside of the convention is that I had to trade weekends off in order to go, which means that between last Monday the 11th and March 1st, the only day off I have is Presidents' Day. Buh-yuck.


When caring for a client in detox we utilize a tool called the CIWA, or Clinical Institute Withdrawal Assessment. It's a series of questions about the patient, some asked directly of the patient and some observed by the nurse, that helps us to assess the severity of withdrawal symptoms being experienced. The questions take into account things like tremors, nausea, sweating, and so on. With this information we can make sure that they get the enough medication to help counter the worst of the symptoms. (I just found this fascinating.)

The temperature is supposed to get up to almost 50° on Monday - I can't wait!!

Tonight on the telly...

Last week I was sad to discover that LOST's day and time-slot change means it's on the air while I'm at work. But the bright side is that I get to watch it commercial-free as soon as I get home.

"I’m thinking about growing a beard..."

Sleepy winter blues.

This morning, between groggy swipes at my snooze button, I dreamt that I was sitting outside in a comfy lawn chair. It was dusk, the lightning bugs were just starting to stir from the grass, and the air was warm and heavy. As I slowly started to emerge from sleep, I snuggled down into my covers, contentedly listening to the sounds of a distant lawnmower. Then with a thud, reality sank in - the sound was not a lawnmower, but a snowblower - meaning that we got more snow. Again.

I'm ready for summer.

Sleepy.

Sleep is an elusive dream these days.

*sigh*

Tidbits.

The temperatures have been hovering in the -5 to -15°F range at night, and single digits to low teens during the daytime. Burr. I think tonight is supposed to be the last of the bitter cold - I sure hope so. The forecast calls for 35°F on Saturday, and after the past week that's sounding like a heat wave.

The bridal boutique called today - my wedding gown has arrived! Sadly, the shop I ordered from is in Spokane, and I don't have any days off for the foreseeable future. I guess I'll just have to wait a little longer...

After a horrible housing snafu with their travel agency, Erica and David finally have an apartment - in the very same apartment complex where I live! Same building, even. I can see their kitchen window from mine. A very happy, and convenient, coincidence!

Okay, I'm going to give sleeping another go. Eight o'clock is sooner than I'd like...
Goodnight!

Intravenous access, or human pincushion practice...

Today we learned how to start IV's.

All of my classmates are good sports - always willing to take another needle stick for the team.